


Adrenaline

by NekomaruNidai



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, VERY LATE SECRET SANTA GIFT SKJDHGKSDJHG IM SO FUCKINF SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, also more just first meeting fluff than anything, au where the v3 cast is in the 76th class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 05:23:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9477419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekomaruNidai/pseuds/NekomaruNidai
Summary: One night, Kazuichi Souda hears an odd, rhythmic whacking outside of his dorm.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY THIS IS SO LATE AAAAAAAAA I GOT REALLY BUSY AND JUST. DIED AND CRIED. ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU STILL ENJOY IT!!! I’M SO SO SORRY THAT IT'S SO LATE

Kazuichi Souda was nestled inside of his Hope’s Peak dorm. Outside, winter winds raged, the bitter colds stinging touch eating away at anything it could. Classes were over, and the sun was setting anyways. He didn’t have any will to fix anything up out of the endless broken machines he kept stacked in his room. All he wanted was to get nice and cozy. 

His room was dimly lit, and a real mess. Clothes, tools, schoolbooks seldom touched, chunks of metal, clumps of wire, toilet paper, sheets, snack wrappers...the ground was like a vortex. Almost anything could be inside it. Souda didn’t mind one bit, this was how he felt at home. He was wrapped up in a quilt on his bed, otherwise bare; it’s contents all spilled out onto the dirty ground. He had built a tv, and was watching it right now. Though the remote was lost, so he found himself unable to change the channel. There was a Keeping Up With the Kardashians Christmas Special on next. No way was he watching that. So he finished up his current program, and slumped over the edge of his bed, before skillfully maneuvering himself through the minefield on his bedroom floor to turn off the tv manually. 

It was positioned close to the window, with the glowing snow raging against the dusk sky beyond. And once he flicked that one button, and the life was cut out of the television immediately, filling the room with silence…

Whack. Whack. Whack.

It was distant and muffled, but it was distinct. Something was being hit, continuously, in perfect intervals. It didn’t sound like anyone vandalizing a building, as that was Souda’s first thought. Didn’t sound like construction, either. He stood, listening to the steady tempo of thumping and smacking, buried somewhere in the harsh winter cold. Finally, curiosity got the best of him. He pulled his beanie snug, and stuck his head out the window. 

The figure outside was concealed immensely by the streaks of snowflakes buzzing past, in single file lines that cut through the air, steadily streaking speedily. The night sky didn’t help either, the dark blanket being wrapped over the scene, making it harder to make out. But two things could be made out. One, it seemed the sound was someone tossing things in the air, and then smacking them with all their might. For what purpose...Souda was confused on that. What on Earth could they be doing? But secondly, whoever it was had fiery red hair, that burned so brightly it could even pierce the gusts of snow and depths of night.

“H-Hey!” Souda called out. It was getting late, and the snow was building intensely. They...probably shouldn’t be outside. But they couldn’t hear. Was it focus? The roaring winds drowning them out? The distance? Some of the above, all of the above, none of the above? After that, Souda’s mind began wandering to ridiculous possibilities. Like that it was a robot, programmed to just do this, not yet with the ability to hear! “Heeeey!” Souda yelled, one more time. That thought was exciting. A robot would be awesome….but still to no ado. 

The mechanic gritted his teeth together. There was no way in hell he was going out in this storm. So if this person was being unresponsive, so be it. He slammed the window shut, though not even that seemed to spark a response. He darted back to his bed and just sat in silence, mulling things over; a mulling that soon grew into fantasizing about having a robot army. And a fantasizing that soon morphed into a deep sleep.

The next day, there was just a light dusting of snow hovering in the air. On the ground, however, were stacks upon stacks of it. It was a miracle someone had managed to shovel all the paths clean, but the Ultimate students could create miracles. Souda wandered around campus, aimlessly looking for someone, anyone to talk to. His classmates were probably scattered about, and he was in a mood for conversation. But nobody familiar seemed to be about. Souda was considering just packing it in and going back to his dorm, when something hooked onto the corner of his eye, yanking his attention in. There, off to the side, was a boy with bright and fiery red hair. 

...But just before Souda could process it, nonetheless initiate a conversation, question the boy on what was going on last night...he walked off, laughing with some others. Was he an underclassman? Probably, but Souda probably hadn’t seen him around much, if at all. He seemed totally unfamiliar. And yet, there was something about him...a determined aura, kinda. Souda was hooked on cracking this code, feeling a determination of his own rising up inside of him.

By the evening, this determination was gone. In fact, the endeavor had completely slipped Souda’s mind. He got distracted by one thing after another, and it was the last thing on his mind. He was back where he was just last night, watching television in his dorm, alone. Something else undesirable came on, although by this point it was much later than before, so once again Souda stretched and propped himself up. He turned off the tv, and once again, heard it. The rhythmic whacking, just outside. 

This time, there wasn’t nearly as much whirling ice dancing through the air. Souda stuck his head out the window and caught another glimpse of him. The red haired boy from before. “H-Hey!” Souda called out, loud as he could. And this time, it solicited a response.

The boy turned, revealling icy blue eyes that clashed to his bright and passionate hair. He seemed to squint a bit; tilting his head and grunting in confusion. This took Souda a bit aback; he seemed genuinely confused as to why someone was calling out to him. As if what he was doing was just a normal routine, run of the mill stuff. “...What are you doing, man?”

“Well, ain’t that obvious? I’m practicing.” the boy scoffed. His grip tightened around two different objects, one in each hand, and Souda got a clear glimpse. It seemed that the boy was holding a baseball bat, and...snowballs? The bat was a glistening cobalt, stained with clumps of snow that was dripping down the side steadily. It was evident that it had been thrust against bodies of snow numerous times, and with the snowball in the boy’s other free hand and the stack of snow nearby, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

“...Practicing?” Souda asked, confused. It wasn’t everyday you just heard someone say, as nonchalantly as he, that they were merely practicing in this goddamn freezing weather. Baseball season was close to, if not during, summer. Souda never payed much attention to the sport, so didn’t know the specifics, but knew that much. Why on earth anyone would subject themselves to practicing, late at night when the temperature struck its lowest, in the winter season of all times? He hadn’t the faintest idea. “Isn’t it, uh...kinda cold?”

The boy stifled a smirk at that. He crushed the snowball, not minding as he had plenty more stockpiled nearby. He rubbed his now free hand through his hair, dotting it with snowflakes. “You think I wanna be out here?” he retorted, with a fair amount of confidence and brashness to his tone. “Coach says I slacked too much last season, he’s making me practice around the clock. Almost missed the initiation ceremony because of it, and since I’m swamped during the days…” By this point, his voice had trailed off into carrying a sense of irritation or resentment with it.

“...So just quit,” Souda mumbled, not fully grasping the situation. “You’re an Ultimate, it’s not like you’ll have nowhere to fall back onto!” 

The fiery haired boy smirked again. “Yeah, if only it were that easy.”

Souda didn’t know how to respond. His mouth hung agape as he just stared. The other boy seemed to take this as a cue to keep doing his thing in solidarity. Souda found himself entranced, watching him swing with precision and might each time. In a burst, each snowball puffed into the air, dissolving into the wind in a cloud of dust. It was like watching powdery fireworks set off, one by one. Each hit was so accurate, that the snowballs never seemed to not burst flawlessly. If this kid was practicing to be a baseball champ, Souda couldn’t help but wonder what he’d be like on a real diamond with real balls…

Eventually, Souda felt too awkward watching silently. Plus, he was getting chilly. It was winter; he could barely grasp how the other dude was standing it. So he shut the window and walked back to his bed, tuning out the distant whacks and curling up on his bed, drifting into a deep sleep.

The next day, he tried seeking out the boy. He couldn’t tell if he was an upperclassman or underclassman, so he decided to start from the top and work his way down. He realized he had never interacted with the above 76th class before, but knew it was necessary. Looking around, he saw a lot of colorful faces. A girl with flowing white hair and a bedazzled surgical mask was awkwardly talking to a girl with an orange bobcut and a pastel yellow cap and a tall boy with shaggy blonde hair and a red coat. For some reason, those three stood out the most, but Souda never initiated any real conversation. He knew some friends and classmates of his had connections up here, but he was exempt from that. He kept pushing his way through a seemingly endless sea of 76th students, before...stumbling upon someone. 

There was a tall and lean boy, with stringy black hair that retained a bluish tint. He had one a green cap and a black pull up mask with an intimidating mouth design on it. Thin but piercing amber eyes on top of a musky green and red ensemble reminded Souda of...a snake. This peculiar boy took notice in Souda immediately, and seemed to stare him down, like a predator eyeing its prey. “...And who may you be?” the tall boy eventually called out, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity.

“Er…” Souda stammered out, evidently put off. He awkwardly fidgeted with his beanie, eyes hooked on this stunning figure. “...K-Kazuichi Souda, Ultimate Mechanic, 77th class?”

The boy nodded and got up. He seemed to glide over, each step with fathomless grace. Truly he valued beauty above most anything else...he stood in front of Souda and eyed the mechanic down even more. He was even taller up close…

“...Korekiyo Shinguuji. Ultimate Anthropologist. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“...Y-Yeah,” Souda managed to force out. He felt...tiny. Like Shinguuji’s eyes were a tractor beam, tensing up his very being and holding him in place. No matter how desperately Souda wanted to duck out and leave and continue his pursuit in his usual lax manner, the piercing gaze of this upperclassman was petrifying. It almost felt judgmental.

“...And what’s troubling you?” Shinguuji asked, slowly, slyly, tone dripping with a sense of coldness, yet retaining a sincere interest. It felt like he was magnifying all of Souda’s emotions into the air in front of him and reading them like a book. 

“...Well, y’know...stuff…” Souda muttered. He didn’t know whether or not he could trust this man, with anything. Even though it wasn’t anything personal. He was off putting to the extreme.

“...I would very much appreciate a real response,” Shinguuji said once more, voice trailing with a lulling tension to it. Souda was, quite frankly, terrified. Shinguuji was, simply put, scary. Intimidating in every sense and manner of the term. But telling him may allow him to flee the tense and unsettling conversation quicker, and might even give him a lead.

“...Well, I’m looking for a dude. Bright red hair, into baseball?”

Shinguuji’s face went null with thought, before brightening up. He closed his eyes, eyebrows and head rising in such a confident way, that you could tell he was grinning even under his mask. Souda could somehow envision every detail crystal clear in his mind, the sly and potentially condescending smirk that rested beneath.

“Ah, yes...are you referring to Leon Kuwata, the 78th class’ Ultimate Baseball Star?” he informed Souda, slowly and pridefully. Gears started turning in Souda’s mind. The name rung a few bells; he had never explicitly talked or seen Kuwata, but he most definitely recognized it. 

“...Okay, thanks...see ya!” Souda said, as quickly as he could, trying his damned hardest to just leave. People around were starting to notice the exchange; the 76th class was usually left alone, it was on odd occasion to see an underclassman in the fray. But Shinguuji gently placed a hand on Souda’s shoulder, halting him for just a few more moments.

“A word of advice...try not to get so heated around Kuwata. Your arrogance is...quite beautiful...but being polite is key.”

And with that, Shinguuji drifted off, fading back into the crowd. A few unsolicited murmurs pierced the bunches of classmates that surrounded him, all wanting the scoop on what had just occurred. Rattled, Souda quickly darted out, heading towards wherever the 78th class may be. 

But as soon as he got out, a familiar voice rang out. It was quiet and dull, but still warm. “Souda?” asked Chiaki Nanami, approaching steadily. It was rare to see her not nose deep in a handheld device, even as she walked. However, it seemed some console was being clutched in her hands, though uncharacteristically powered off. 

“...Hey, Nanami,” Souda greeted, still coming off as awkward from the unsettling conversation he just managed to get out of. 

“...Where are you going?”

“Back to my dorm, I guess?”

“But we have classes…”

“Aw, classes aren’t mandatory...besides, don’t you rarely show up? Don’t lecture me!”

Nanami raised the console she held, and gave it a slight wave. “It died, and I can’t find my charger. Looking would be boring, so I’m going to class. You should come with me!”

Her voice was a bit expressive, but her facial expressions were a blank slate, as usual. However, there was something soothing and refreshing about her tired yet motherly presence. Maybe it was just a nice change of scenery after Shinguuji’s intimidating gaze boring into Souda’s soul. And so, he let Nanami pull him off to class.

But the entire time he was there, his mind kept wandering. He gazed out at the snow, watching each flake drifting to the ground one by one, in their own flurry. Yukizome snapped at him for not paying attention a couple times, but it didn’t stop him from zoning back out right after. Every second, he had one thing and one thing alone on his mind: Leon Kuwata. The snowflakes that danced outside reminded Souda of everything; the puffs that each ball burst into with each whack of the bat, the thin frosting that lined Kuwata’s hair, the red tinge on his nose from the biting cold that almost rivalled his own fiery hair. As he reflected, he came to a realization; he would probably see Kuwata again soon.

And then, struck panic. He hadn’t the faintest idea on what to do! What was he supposed to say? He wanted to watch Kuwata practice more, but he barely knew the guy. He was oddly infatuated, and he barely knew why. At least, Souda didn’t question it much. Just went along with it and started thinking about everything he could do. And with that, Shinguuji’s advice came to mind.

Don’t get so heated.

Heated...that was it! It must be dreadfully cold outside, even for a fit athlete like Kuwata. Souda could see it on his physique from ten feet away. Souda flipped over his notes and began sketching out blueprints. And the instant class was over, he sprinted back to his dorm and got to work.

He was no Ultimate Inventor. His forte lay mostly in fixing things up, not creating them. But he had to try his best. Plus, maybe once this fiasco settled, it could be beneficial to him! He had to make a quick sacrifice for it, but it could be easily replaced. As he finally finished, Souda wiped the sweat off his brow and looked at the time. It was just past one in the morning...maybe he could still make it!

He inched towards the window, but to his dismay, did not hear the telltale whacking. He was disappointed, but not discouraged. However, right as he was about to turn away, the corner of his eyesight hooked onto a flash of bright red. Kuwata seemed to be just packing up, mumbling gibberish to himself as he struggled to zip up an equipment bag with numb fingertips. Souda perked up, and...ran outside.

It took a few moments to loop around, but eventually Souda and Kuwata crossed paths. “Hey again!” Souda beamed. He was excited, moreso than usual in a sense. Kuwata tilted his head, having always been bad with putting faces to names and never seeing Souda up close. “...I made you something’!”

Proudly, Souda took out the bedroom sheets he once clung to, now all stacked on top of each other to make a cloak. He flung it over Kuwata before the younger boy could resist. “What the hell!?” the fiery haired all star spat, struggling against it. But once it was on, it felt...comforting. And warm. Definitely warm. Definitely very warm. 

“Heated blanket!” Souda explained, proudly. “Made it myself!”

Kuwata started down at it. God, how badly he wanted to take it off. It was thrown on him without permission, and barely looked fashionable at all. Plus a complete stranger just gave it to him like some sort of belated Christmas gift. Totally ruined his punk rock look, and came out of the blue entirely. But it was just so damn cozy…! 

“...Thanks, man,” Kuwata said. Despite there being a hint of dismissiveness to his tone, it was mostly sincerity. He was more tired than anything though, and trudged away from Souda before the mechanic could say anymore. And maybe it was just from the cold, but his cheeks were glowing a pretty bright red from all the consideration and effort…

And Souda watched him leave, heart still pounding as he was high on adrenaline. Kuwata seemed like a very cool guy. It might be neat to talk to him more! Being someone’s upperclassman was always fun. Or, so Souda had heard; this would be his first opportunity to actually see. He was so overjoyed, he couldn’t stop looking at silver linings. He even thanked the unsettling anthropologist in his above year, just internally. And as Kuwata walked away from where Souda stood, both felt a satisfying warmth growing in their hearts.


End file.
